


Beautiful Day

by prepare4trouble



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Blind Character, Blindfolds, Community: daredevilkink, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3908914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daredevil kinkmeme prompt:</p><p>Matt/Foggy - blindfold.  Matt blindfolds Foggy (probably reluctantly, but Foggy wants to see what it's like). Can be sexy blindfolding or just two goobers messing around, but I kind of at least want it to be a bit goofy/not too angsty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Day

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know whether this what anon wanted. It's not slash, and it veers between goofy and angsty a little, but veers more to the angst side at times. Sorry. Also, written late at night and may seem awful in the morning. I'll decide then whether to leave it up.
> 
> Please forgive any errors. I'm only three episodes in...
> 
> Feedback is loved, even if its bad.

“No.”

Foggy scowls at him across the room. He is slouching on his bed, a text book, open somewhere in the middle, forgotten and discarded next to him. “Just no?”

Matt shakes his head and Foggy’s scowl deepens.

“Why not?”

Matt sighs. He is seated at his desk, his own book open in front of him, his index finger holding his position on the page, ready for him to return to his studies. He has turned in Foggy’s direction as he speaks, out of courtesy to his roommate but it is clear that he has no intention of allowing the conversation to last any longer than necessary. “Seriously, you’re asking why?” He shakes his head again.

Foggy wonders whether he has to think about doing things like that, or whether visual gestures were things he picked up as a kid and still uses out of habit. He picks up his book again and sighs. “No, I guess not. You’re right, stupid idea.” Even to his own ears, he doesn’t sound convinced, his roommate is more skilled than him at picking up on the nuances of tone of voice, he doubts he will get that one past him.

Matt allows his hand to drop away from the page, and rotates in his seat so that he is facing fully in Foggy’s direction. This is a sure indication that Matt has given up on studying for now. He hates stopping in the middle of a page, it makes it difficult to find his place again. “It’s not a stupid idea,” Matt tells him. He pauses, then half smiles, the corners of him mouth twitching upward just slightly. “Well, it is pretty stupid. What would be the point?”

Foggy shrugs, embarrassed now, like he’s been caught out. It hadn’t seemed so bad when he had thought it, but to actually say it, it would be like implying that his friend’s life was so weird that it might be fun to play act at it for a while. Not cool. So very very much not cool.

Matt is still looking at him - well, not exactly, but facing in his direction - waiting for a response.

“I dunno, man. You’re just so damn impressive, I don’t get how you do it. It might help me understand what the world’s like for you.”

Matt says nothing. He licks his lips and looks thoughtful. Foggy doesn’t know how it is possible for him to feel like the blind guy is looking right inside him, but he can’t shake the feeling.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Like I said. Dumb idea.”

“It’s… kinda nice actually,” Matt tells him haltingly. “People ask all kinds of dumb questions, but they’re less eager to really know for themselves. It wouldn’t show you what it’s like to be blind though. It’d show you what it’s like to wear a blindfold.”

Foggy knows he has asked his share of dumb questions too. He also knows that Matt doesn’t mind, he prefers people to ask than to feel awkward. He also kind of likes being the centre of attention. The guy knows how to use his disability to his advantage. But Foggy also knows - because Matt has told him - how much he still misses his sight. Someone wanting to play-act at being blind has to be annoying.

“Okay,” Matt tells him after another long pause. “But if we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it my way. Agreed?”

“Your way?”

“You need to do as I tell you. We’re not just staying in the dorm room where you know where everything is. We’re going to take a walk.”

Foggy feels his mouth go dry. He tries to swallow despite it. “Um…” he says.

Matt is still facing in his direction. He isn’t wearing his glasses, his eyes don’t quite make contact with Foggy’s own, they aim downward as though focussed intently on the ground between them. Foggy finds himself staring at the same spot.

“People will stare at us,” he says. The excuse sounds lame even to his own ears.

“So what? You won’t be able to see them anyway.”

Foggy takes a deep breath, trying to dispel the tension inside him. “Fine,” he says. After all, this had been his own stupid idea, he couldn’t exactly back out now. “You’ve got a deal, Murdock.

* * *

It is somewhere in the middle of the night, late enough that most of the more studious types have been tucked up in bed for hours, most of the rest are probably home or nearly there, and the few hardcore drinkers will be starting to think about stumbling back. Matt pulls out a drawer, opens a box inside it and pulls out several bandages and wound dressings.

“What the hell do you have all that stuff for?” Foggy asks him.

“It’s a first aid kit,” Matt tells him.

“Yeah, but what are you doing with it?”

“First aid, usually. But tonight I’m thinking blindfold?”

“Now?” This hadn’t been what he had in mind. He had been thinking maybe one of the bandannas he has in his closet, or maybe buying one of those masks to keep it dark while sleeping. Matt’s idea would be more effective, he had to admit that. “Okay,” he says. He can hear the nerves in his voice. It is stupid, if anything happens he can just take the thing off.

“Okay?” Matt beckons him over, indicating the chair with a wave of his hand. “Sit down,” he tells him.

Foggy does as he is told. The tips of Matt’s fingers briefly touch his face, finding the right location with one hand, then with the other he places a gauze pad over his left eye. Holding it in place, he repeats the procedure with the other eye. Foggy feels his breath catch in his throat, and he really doesn’t understand why he is so nervous.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Matt asks him.

He nods. Matt’s hand, now holding both pads in place, feels the movement.

“Okay, hold these for me,” he tells him.

Foggy does as he is told and hears the sound of something else being pulled from the first aid kid. Gentle, skilled hands begin to wrap a large, elasticated bandage around his head, pulling his fingers away from the pads at the right moment. Matt works quickly and deftly, as though he has experience at this kind of thing. He wraps the bandage tightly, not tight enough to be painful but enough that Foggy can’t help but be aware of it.

“There,” Matt tells him. “Just let me fasten it with a pin, and…” Foggy feels something at the back of his head as Matt secures the bandage in place, and then hears a creak of floorboards as he steps backward. “Done.”

Foggy smiles nervously. The light is on in the room, he hasn’t heard Matt switch it, off, besides, the switch is right at the other side of the room and Matt hasn’t moved from next to him, but he can see nothing at all through the bandage, not even the faint glow of light from the other side.

He raises his hands to his face and touches the material carefully, brushing it with the tips of his fingers. “Okay,” he says. “That’s definitely effective.”

“It’s also a good cover for those staring people you were so worried about,” Matt tells him. “You’ve had some kind of an accident and you’re recovering. If they ask, which they won’t.”

Foggy presses his fingers deeper into the bandage. It certainly feels convincing. he wonders how it looks. “What kind of an accident?”

“Does it matter?” Matt claps a hand on his shoulder. “Ready to take a walk?”

Foggy feels his lips twitch into a smile against his will. It transforms quickly into a grin and he feels a hysterical giggle attempt to force its way out of him. He suppresses it. No, he is definitely not ready. Even just within the confines of the small dorm room that he has called home for almost the past year, he feels disoriented and nervous. He knows that his bed is behind him, but he wouldn’t trust himself to walk to it without swinging his arms around in front of him until he found it with his hands. Out there in the rest of the world he is going to be completely useless.

He stands up and takes a deep breath. “Lets do it,” he says. He hesitates. He feels his head turning from left to right almost of its own accord despite the pointlessness of the gesture. “Um, how?”

He feels Matt clasp his left hand between both of his own. He squeezes it lightly before placing it on his elbow. Foggy recognizes the procedure, he has done this himself with Matt many times before, but he has always taken the leader position. He exhales through his nose in a kind of snort.

“Don’t say it,” Matt tells him. He isn’t sure, but he thinks he can hear a suppressed laugh in his voice.

“Don’t say what? The thing about the blind leading the blind? Wouldn’t think of it.”

“Do you trust me?”

“Not even a little.”

Matt starts walking. Foggy follows him. He knows he is holding on too tightly, and he knows that he isn’t supposed to be waving his free arm out in front of him like some kind of stumbling zombie, but he can’t help it. He can hear Matt’s cane moving back and forth on the floor of the corridor outside their room. He turns left, heading toward the stairs.

“Ready for this?” Matt asks him. “Twelve steps down.”

Foggy remembers. He allows himself to be led. Matt slows on the stairs, out of courtesy to him, he assumes, because he has seen his friend go both up and down them at a sprint before. Foggy allows his free hand to brush the wall as they walk, he counts the steps in his head as they descend.

“Foggy?”

He breathes out, relieved as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could ease up your grip, just a little? It’s hurting.”

Shit. Foggy forces his fingers to relax their death grip on Matt’s elbow. They continue down the corridor of the first floor and after several yards, he hears the sound of the door being pushed open and feels cool, night air on his skin.

“Three more steps,” Matt warns him, before descending to ground level and taking off in some random direction over the grass.

Foggy follows because he has no choice. After a few minutes, they stop. Matt takes his hand from his elbow and Foggy allows it to drop to his side.

“There’s a bench just behind you,” Matt tells him. The location of his voice tells Foggy that he has already sat down.

Foggy gropes out with his hands to find the seat. He catches Matt’s knee instead and draws his hand back quickly. “Sorry.”

Matt catches his hand in mid air, and Foggy has no idea how he manages to do that. He pulls it closer to him and places it on the cool wooden surface. Finding something solid and real in the sea of nothingness around him, Foggy grips it tightly and explores with his other hand before sitting down.

“Having fun yet?” Matt asks him.

Foggy can’t help but laugh.

By his side, he hears Matt inhale deeply. “This is my favorite place on campus,” he says.

Foggy has no idea where they are, and he has no idea what could possibly distinguish this place from any other place outside. It is completely silent, thankfully deserted. It is a little chilly. He wishes he had thought to bring his jacket.

“Nope,” he says after a few moments, “you’ll have to tell me.”

“What? Why it’s my favorite place?”

“Yup, it’s a wooden bench in the middle of I don’t know where. Doesn’t look that special to me. Or, y’know, sound that special. Whatever.”

Matt doesn’t say anything for a while, and Foggy wonders whether he would have noticed the silence if he had been able to see him. He feels like he is missing out on a lot of information, facial expressions, gestures, things that might have filled that few seconds instead of making them stretch out to minutes.

“It’s peaceful,” Matt tells him. “Even in the middle of the day not too many people come here. And there is a flowerbed just to our left, I don’t know what they are, but they smell wonderful. I come here when I need to think. Sometimes I come out here to read, or just to get away from everything.”

Foggy shrugs. It’s a bench.

“Ready to try walking around without being led?” Matt asks him.

* * *

“Sweep it back and forth over the ground. No, you don’t need to swing it so far or you’ll miss things, just keep it more or less where you’re going to be walking. You’re looking for things that might trip you up or that you might walk into, not things two feet to the side of you.”

Foggy grits his teeth. “How do you even know I’m swinging it too far?” he asks.

“I can hear you,” Matt tells him. “It’s taking to long to move from one side to the other.”

“Fine, how’s this? Aaagh!” An unexpected bump in the pavement catches him off guard and trips him. He falls forward awkwardly, dropping the cane and landing on his hands on the concrete path.

There is both amusement and concern in Matt’s voice as he answers. “Probably not great. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” he rubs his hands together to remove the grit from the pavement. His left knee hurts where he landed. He reaches to pick up the cane, and finds it not where he had expected. He gropes on the ground searching for it, but it appears to have disappeared into the nothing that surrounds him.

Frustrated, he explores further, changing direction. An irritated sound pushes its way out of his mouth.

Somebody touches his shoulder and he flinches in surprise before he realizes it is Matt. His friend grabs him by the hand and hauls him to his feet. “Okay, that’s enough. I’m sorry,” he says.

“For what?”

“For letting you do this. You could’ve gotten hurt.”

“I did. My knee. I’m probably going to have a bruise tomorrow.”

Matt laughs. “Ready to take it off?”

“What, my knee?”

Without waiting for a proper response, Matt reaches for the back of the bandage and unfastened the pin. He winds the bandage around Foggy’s head until it is gone, then Foggy removes the two gauze pads. He blinks. The pressure on his eyes makes his vision a little blurry. He blinks again and waits for it to clear.

The world comes back into focus slowly. They are on a path near a building belonging to the physics department. The sky is slowly lightening from black to blue, and he stares up at the changing colors, growing lighter closer to the horizon. He smiles. “The sun’s coming up.”

“Yeah, it does that most days. Or so I’ve been told,” Matt says. He smiles.

The cane is laying on the grass just a few feet from where he is standing. He bends down, picks it up and places it in Matt’s hand. Matt nods in thanks and places the tip on the ground and starts to walk back in the direction they had come. Foggy follows after him, limping slightly, catches him up and falls into step beside him.

“Thanks,” Foggy tells him as they climb the stairs back to their dorm room.

“For what?”

“For this,”

Matt turns as though he is looking at him. “For blindfolding you, taking you on a walk and letting you bust your knee up?”

Foggy grins. “Yeah. The knee’ll be okay. Mostly thanks for not taking me out there and disappearing, I was half convinced that was what you were planning on doing. More than half, actually.”

“Leaving you somewhere?” Matt shakes his head.

Foggy unlocks the door to their room and walks inside, Matt follows him.

“You know that if I’d done that, you’d have been able to just take the blindfold off, don't you?”

Foggy walks over to the window and looks outside. Their dorm faces in the right direction to give him a great view of the sunrise. Eight months living there and he had never noticed until now. He watches as the sky continues to lighten.

“That would have been cheating,” he says.

Behind him, he hears the bedsprings creak as Matt gets, fully clothed, into bed. “I cheat,” he says. “All the time. You use what you’ve got.”

Foggy frowns. He doesn’t know what his friend means, but it doesn’t matter, He is too focussed on the reds and golds in the sky as the sun rises from behind the buildings into a cloudless sky.

Tomorrow is going to be a beautiful day.


End file.
